.: Zimma :.

Edit 12/30/09- I just now realized I linked her showjumping training pic to Cheater's dressage training pic. o__o|| Fixed that!

You know what? I've decided I don't have enough mares. Зима (or Zimma) here is only my third mare, actually. My other two are Harlequines!

Stats
Show name: Зима ("winter" in Russian)
Alias: Zimma
Gender: Mare
Breed: Grey Cobalt Bacabella
Breedtype: Andalusian
Age: 5
Height: Haven't measured yet
Diciplines: Showjumping ([link]) (Training for dressage)
Passable traits: (Bacabello genes are always dominant)
"Wing" marking (95%)
Curls (hind legs- foals won't have it in the same place) (70%)
Mask (50%)
Offspring:
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Personality: Zimma is always curious, but she's cautious and calm. She is very quiet, but she's usually thinking about something, whether it be wondering what a stablehand is doing or deciding what she thinks of another horse's saddlepad.

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Emma burrowed her hands deep into her fuzzy pockets as she strode twards an unfamiliar barn. It had come to her attention lately that most of her barn was filled with stallions, and not many mares. As much as she loved her boys, they weren't much good for breeding for herself. She had searched the papers and the internet for new breeds of horses to try out, and she even asked a few of the stablehands what their favorites were. The name "Bacabello" had popped up here and there, and Emma faintly remembered her friend Wind having a mare of that breed. So, she had decided to try and find one for herself.

As Emma stepped out of the chilly early December wind and into the barn, several curious whickers greeted her warmly. She glanced around, but no one was here that she could talk to about buying a horse.

"Hello?" she ventured, peering around a bit more. After a pause, she shrugged to herself and decided to take a look at the horses herself. The first horse was a beautiful Harlequine, red and black designs snaking up and down her graceful limbs. The mare looked up from her hay and pricked her ears up at the newcomer, but went back to munching after a short pause. Emma lingered at her stall door for a short while, then stepped to the next one.

A set of angry teeth awaited Emma there as an angry Toxics stallion made a lunge for her. Emma swiftly took an instinctive step back in the direction of the Harlequine's stall, then carefully gave the irritable stallion a wide birth and moved on to the next stall.

Another curious whicker and pricked white ears awaited her there, and Emma decided it was safe to offer the mare a scritch. She reached out and stroked the mare's blue nose and looked at the rest of her markings. Her coloring was normal except for the blue patterns that decorated her. The mare also had a few tattoos on her skin. Emma figured that she was a Bacabella- just the breed she was looking for.

Emma took a step back to read the name plate hanging on the stall door. In flowing handwriting was the name "Зима." She did a double take; at first glance it had looked as if she and the mare shared the same name.

"Hello!" said a friendly voice behind her. "You must be Emma, the lady that called me earlier!"

Emma turned to the stableowner standing behind her and smiled. "Yes, that's me!" she replied.

"I see you've taken a liking to Zimma there," the stableowner observed.

"Zimma?" Emma replied. "Her name looks like 'Enma' to me."

The man chuckled. "Well, I guess you're not that familiar with the Russian language, are you? The word 'Зима' is the Russian word for 'winter.'" he explained. "And 'Zima' is some other language, also means 'winter.'"

"It seems like you put some thought into her name, then," Emma remarked. She liked the way they had named the mare. Winter suited her perfectly.

"Is she for sale?" Emma asked, somewhat suddenly. The stableowner seemed surprised.

"Eh? Well, now that you mention it, I was starting to think about selling her..."

"Really?"

"Well, she ain't trained at all. She's hardly been ridden, and she's still very green undersaddle-"

"That's no problem at all!" Emma said. "How much do you want for her...?"

They negotiated on prices, and before the hour passed Zimma's lead rope was in Emma's hand. The mare walked by Emma's side beautifully, snuffing at her pockets once in a while as the stableowner looked on approvingly.

"Well, you take care of her now," he said, crossing his arms with a smile.

"I will! I promise!" Emma said, then led the mare to her trailer.
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_{Sorry that was kinda long... I got a little bit carried away!}

Зима is (C) to me